Unreasonable Behaviour
by Wilsden
Summary: Doyle thinks Bodie's gone too far this time.


**Unreasonable Behaviour.**

"He did what?" Doyle was absolutely livid and swung round to face Christine in disbelief.

"Calm down, Ray. He was only looking out for you."

"Looking out for me? I'll give him looking out for me, the nosey interfering bastard." He grabbed his car keys from the table and headed towards the door, ignoring Christine's pleas.

"Ray, don't do anything you'll regret. He's not done anything you wouldn't have done."

"You seriously think I would have interrogated a girlfriend of his as to her motives? Then you don't know me."

"It wasn't like that. He didn't interrogate me." Christine pulled at his sleeve but Doyle shrugged free of her grasp to open the door and stalk off to the car.

Doyle didn't even remember the short journey to Bodie's flat, he was only conscious that his partner was taking a long time to answer the door dispite Doyle refusing to remove his finger from the buzzer. When eventually he did open it Doyle took him by complete surprise when he barrelled into him knocking him to the floor.

"Just where the hell do you get off questioning Christine? She's none of your business and from now on neither am I, so keep your bloody nose out."

"Ray?" Bodie, sprawled on the floor, blinked up at him in shock. Still furious Doyle walked away ignoring Bodie's repeated calling of his name as he struggled to his feet.

When Doyle arrived at the headquarters of C.I.5 the next morning Bodie was already there, seated before George Cowley's desk. He didn't so much as give Doyle even a cursory glance as Doyle handed over his report on their previous days enquiries to their boss and then sat down. Doyle knew immediately that Cowley had picked up on the tension that was so obvious between them. His narrow grey eyes darted from Bodie to Doyle and back again before they dropped to the papers in front of him.

"And your report concurs with Bodie's findings I take it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And the pair of you didn't pick up any other possible leads?"

"No, Sir."

"I see." Again Cowley looked at his agents, perplexed.

"Right then, I'll make some more enquiries at this end. He sat back and steepled his fingers in thought. "And everything else is alright?"

Cowley noted the subtle heartbeat of a delay in Doyle's reply as Bodie sat silent and motionless, eyes fixed on some distant point.

"Yes, Sir."

His unconvincing tone seemed to drive the Scot to a decision.

"Good. Right, well I have work for you both though remember that you have annual medicals to attend today. Bodie, I need you and Weaver at the surveillance in Tiptree Street straight away to relieve the night shift until two o'clock when you have the medical and Doyle, find Murphy and report back to me."

Bodie left his seat and was out the door before Cowley had even finished speaking.

"Okay, Doyle. What's going on with you two?" he asked.

"It's nothing, Sir."

"It doesn't look like nothing to me. Do I need to be worried?" Cowley asked with concern.

Doyle reflected on this for a moment. "I don't know, Sir." he answered thoughtfully.

There was a long sigh from Cowley as he realised he wasn't going to be getting any more from his agent. Sometimes it seemed to him that he had, on occasions, to be more than just a boss to his men and this was looking like it might be one of them.

"Just make sure you've sorted out your lovers tiff by the time I see the pair of you again. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir." Doyle tried to sound convincing but at the moment he was still too angry with Bodie and was a long way from sorting anything out with him.

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Doyle glanced quickly into the restroom and several heads turned in his direction.

"Hey, Doyle, I hear the honeymoon period is over and you're having a trial separation!" jeered Richards but fellow operative Simpson nudged his arm. "No, Tony, I reckon a divorce is on the cards!" An echo of laughter broke out around the room but Doyle chose to ignore the jibes as his eyes fell on Murphy who had already risen from his chair to come and stand beside him. Wordlessly the two men made their way down the hallway and out into the carpark.

"Don't take any notice of them, Ray." Murphy opened the door of the Cortina and slid into the passenger seat. "They're idiots."

Doyle turned on the engine and pulled out of the yard to join the traffic.

"Cowley says Willie the Snitch has been seen around Leyton Street a lot." Doyle said curtly. "We'll try there first."

"Right." Murphy confirmed quietly, and stared out of the side window. Doyle glanced over to him. He was one of just a few of Cowley's men that both he and Bodie had time for. He was a good operative and one they trusted, one they considered a good friend. Doyle now regretted cutting him off so shortly.

"He can be such an annoying interfering sod sometimes. Bodie." he said, by way of an apology.

"Ask yourself why."

Doyle nodded in understanding. Bodie was just being Bodie and his heart had been in the right place, Doyle knew that deep down.

"And a word to the wise, Ray." Murphy said sagely. "Get it sorted out. If anything were to happen to him could you ever forgive yourself for leaving what is probably something trivial unresolved? Take it from one that knows."

Doyle saw a look of pain in the other man's eyes. "What happened?" he asked softly as he turned the car into Leyton Street. Murphy pursed his lips and shook his head slowly unable to reveal anything further.

"Sorry, Murphy. I didn't mean to…"

"I know. Just get it sorted out Ray, that's all I'm saying."

Doyle nodded. The falling out _had_ been over something trivial and, true to form, Doyle had over re-acted with his quick temper. Murphy was right. If anything were to happen to his partner how could he live with himself. He smiled now as he followed Murphy out of the car and onto the busy street. At least Bodie was safe on a stakeout. The only danger to him was being bored to death by it and by Weaver! What a combination!

Bodie prowled moodily around the building in search of the relatively new operative Ben Weaver. The man's inability to stop talking for even a second was his give away when Bodie located him in the Computer Room.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" he demanded. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Me?"

"Yeah, Cowley wants us to take over at the surveillance in Tiptree Street." Bodie's eyes alighted pleasingly on Kirsty and Janet standing at the huge computers that flanked the entire length of one wall as Weaver fell in beside him.

"Where's your better half?" asked Janet with a smile. She'd always had a soft spot for Bodie's curly haired partner.

"On another job." Bodie smiled, his eyes leaving her to flicker over to Kirsty who, much to the agent's dismay, had always resisted his charms. Reluctantly Bodie turned out of the room into the corridor.

"So you're not with Doyle then?" Weaver noted unnecessarily.

"Obviously not. We're not joined at the hip, you know."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Meaning?" snapped Bodie as they descended the flight of stairs to the car park.

"Nothing. I just wondered why you weren't working with Doyle, that's all."

"Look, just shut up Weaver and we'll get along fine."

Bodie tooled the Capri out of the yard throwing Weaver back against the seat but the agent didn't seem to notice as he launched into his favourite topic.

"I don't always want to be a C.I.5 agent" he said. "No, I'm taking evening classes as I want to get into computers. That's where the future lies."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yes. It will be where the big money will be. In the future every home will have a computer in it."

Weaver noted Bodie's eyebrows arch in his direction. "Oh, not one of those huge things you see in the Computer Room at H.Q." he said. " Good God no. No, the computers of the future will be small, small enough to fit on a desk, maybe one day even in the palm of your hand. Like I say, every home will have one."

"To do what with? Access government records and information?" Bodie was having trouble getting his head round this. Wasn't that all computers were for?

"No, no. It will be like a gigantic encylopedia. Anything you want to know about anything in the world will be at your fingertips." Weaver told him, enjoying the fact he had someone new to share his interest with.

"You're barking mad." Bodie replied, bored.

"You mark my words, computers are the future."

"Sounds too space age for me. Anyway, it's not going to happen in our lifetime so I'd forget it if I were you." Bodie drew the car up outside the back of the old three storey Victorian building and got out.

"Of course it will," continued Weaver. "I reckon twenty to twenty five years time."

"Now I _know_ you're definitely mad." Bodie entered the property and met Turner and Kingston upstairs seated at the window overlooking another house.

"Anything happening,lads?"

"Nothing. Quiet as a grave." replied Kingston with a yawn, handing Bodie a clipboard.

"Oh great." Bodie flipped idly through the scant recorded details. He hated stake outs at the best of times but to be stuck here with Ben Weaver for the morning was more than he thought he could bear.

The second Turner and Kingston disappeared Weaver plunged into another enthusiastic monologue as Bodie took up a seat at the window.

"And I see a time when you'll be able to do your shopping on a computer and have it delivered to your doorstep." he explained as though there had been no break in their conversation.

"What?" said Bodie vaguely, picking up the binoculars.

"For instance, you'll go on your computer and order say, a pound of sprouts, and the supermarket will then deliver them to your home."

Bodie stared at the man in puzzlement. "Why wouldn't I just go out and get them myself instead of faffing about on a computer? And anyway, that's never going to happen because I hate sprouts." Bodie turned away to look out of the window, uninterested in the continued ramblings of what he now considered to be the madman beside him.

Weaver was undaunted. "Yes but…"

"Listen Weaver, make yourself useful and go out and get us some coffee and something to eat, eh? Something tells me this is going to be a long morning."

In the welcome silence of the room that followed Weaver's departure Bodie couldn't help but let his thoughts stray to Doyle. In the years they'd been together there had barely been a cross word between them and certainly not anything that had brought about their separation at work. In fact, he thought, the last and only time had also involved a woman. Ann. Ann Holly. Doyle had been bereft at their break up a year or so ago and hadn't allowed himself to be that serious again about anyone until now. He'd been seeing Christine for a few weeks and, in a chance meeting alone with her, Bodie had asked a few seemingly casual questions that hid a deeper need to know of the woman's intentions.

Bodie put the binoculars down. What was it Cowley had said once? Never come between a man and his woman. Perhaps he should have heeded that advice. Doyle had been right, it was none of his business. He should have left well alone. But, thought Bodie stubbornly, I'm sure as hell not going to apologise.

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Cowley stood beside the filing cabinet looking at Murphy and Doyle with mild disappointment.

"And that's all he could tell you?"

"Yes, Sir." Doyle replied. "Just that he'd heard the shipment was due in around the middle of the month."

"Och, but that could be any time." Cowley said in frustration. "But I'll alert the London port authority to be on their guard. We can't afford that amount of guns and drugs to come in undetected."

"Willie will keep his ear to the ground, Sir." Murphy put in. "He's usually pretty reliable."

"Aye, well I suppose that will have to do." Cowley glanced at his watch. "Doyle, Dr. Hedley will be waiting for you. Get yourself along there."

Doyle attended the medical at noon and hoped he'd have a chance to catch up with his partner after lunch when Bodie was due in for his own medical, however Cowley took Doyle straight off to accompany him to a meeting in the centre of the city. But, Doyle noted as he got into his car to drive home that evening, Bodie hadn't appeared to have made any effort to contact him and patch things up. Irritated Doyle decided to forget about him and instead turned his attention to the more pleasing thought of taking Christine out that night.

Sitting at the window, binoculars trained on the house opposite, Ben Weaver was in full flow again.

"The possibilities are endless,we are only just beginning to scratch the surface." he said as Bodie sat at a makeshift table trying to find something to read in yesterdays newspaper that he hadn't read the day before. He had almost pleaded with Cowley that morning for him to find something else for him to do rather than endure another day on a stakeout and with Weaver of all people but his request had fallen on deaf ears.

Weaver glanced at Bodie every few minutes still hoping to engage the other agents interest in his passion.

"We'll also be ..."

"Girls." Bodie cut through the operatives enthusiastic words. "Girls. You do like girls don't you, Weaver?"

"Girls?" Weaver appeared flummoxed by the word.

"Yes, those beautiful creatures of the female variety, you know like Kirsty and Janet who I presume I caught you trying to chat up yesterday."

"Chat up?" The concept seemed alien to Weaver. "No, no I was asking them about the advantages of the Segmore software for the new R12-10 model."

"The what?" Bodie screwed his face up in puzzlement but then quickly held up his hands to ward off another raft of meaningless information. " Never mind, I don't want to know." Bodie returned his eyes to the sports pages. Weaver, he decided was a lost cause. How much longer was he going to have to endure this computer nerd? He wondered what Doyle was doing. The last he'd heard he was out on some venture with Murphy again. Bodie sighed and suddenly became aware that Weaver had gone quiet, a notion Bodie didn't think was possible.

"What's up?" He raised his head sharply to view the man.

"I dunno. Thought I saw movement at the curtain."

"Yeah?" Bodie moved hurriedly to the window. "Let's have a look." Weaver passed him the binoculars and the agent quickly scanned the front of the house from left to right and back again. Everything appeared as it had been for the last two days. Bodie seriously doubted the house was even being used.

"I think you're seeing things, mate." he told Weaver kindly. Dispite his constant inane chatter Weaver's mind had still clearly been on the job in hand as well.

"Take a break. I'll have a go for a while though I think this is a waste of time. There's a flask of tea in the car I forgot to bring up. Get it will you?"

Weaver stood up and stretched, glad to leave his vigil at the windowsill. He sauntered lazily down the flight of stairs and out into the sunlit alley. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply the fresh air. As he opened his eyes again he suddenly realised that there was someone peering into the front window of Bodie's Capri.

"Hey!" he called out, and in that instant a shot rang out. Weaver, with deft instinct, dropped to the ground like a stone drawing his gun as the badly aimed bullet whistled past him to embed itself in the bickwork behind him. When Weaver looked up there were two darkly clad figures emerging from behind the car. From where he lay Weaver let off a round that caught one man in the leg and he began to hobble off up the alleyway. The other man followed but not before firing a shot into the Capri's tyre.

Bodie, at the sound of gunfire, was outside within seconds.

"Weaver!" As the two assailants fled one let off a departing shot that caught Bodie in the arm. He returned the fire but the man was fast disappearing.

"Weaver!"

"I'm alright." Weaver was on his feet and staring at the blood running down the other man's arm.

"Come on!" Bodie urged heading towads his car.

"It's no good, they've shot up the tyre!"

"What!" Bodie stared at the car and saw the flattened tyre. "Shit!" he cursed, as the two gunmen disappeared.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked the white faced Weaver as he clutched his own arm.

"Yeah, yeah but you're not though."

"It's nothing. What the hell happened?" Bodie demanded.

"I dunno. I came out and someone was at your car. I don't know where the other bloke came from, it all happened so fast."

"They must have made us somehow." Bodie opened the car door and reached for the radio. Cowley was going to love this.

With Murphy at his side Doyle reached the top of the stairs at H.Q. and heard several voices rising excitedly at the end of the corridor. A couple of operatives spilled out of the restroom.

"What's going on?" he asked Wilson.

"There's been a shooting at Tiptree Street. Bodie's been hit."

Doyle felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as Wilson's words hit him harder than any punch he'd ever received. He stood shocked and stunned in the noise and confusion of the hallway. He was barely aware of Murphy's urgent questions for more information, all he could hear in his head was 'Bodie's been hit.'

In a dreamlike state Doyle became vaguely conscious that Sally, one of George Cowley's secretaries, was standing in front of him.

"He's okay, Ray. He's not badly hurt, it's just a graze."

Doyle shook his head hoping it helped him return to his senses.

"What?"

"I took his call, he's alright. The bullet just grazed his arm."

"Are you sure?" he asked stupidly.

"Yes, I spoke to him myself." she stressed again. "It doesn't even warrant a visit to hospital."

Doyle felt himself give an inward sigh of relief.

"Where is he now?"

"Still there with Weaver I think. Cowley's just organising a car to take himself down to them now."

"Is Weaver okay?" Murphy asked.

Sally smiled. "Bodie said Weaver was so scared he actually stopped talking!"

There was a collective outbreak of laughter in the corridor and people began to disperse now that the incident didn't appear too serious.

Sally pushed a folded piece of paper into Doyle's hand. "I've had a phone call from your informant, Willie the Snitch. He's got some information and wants to meet you."

"You go with Cowley." Murphy said, turning to Doyle. "I'll see Willie on my own."

"No you won't!" The harsh unforgiving voice of Cowley boomed down the hallway as he approached the men. "I've already had one man shot today, I don't want another."

"Sir, I'd like to go with you….." Doyle began.

"To do what? You can catch up with Bodie later. Right now I need you and Murphy to find out what Willie's got. Go!"

Doyle sighed in frustration, his boss's mind had been made up and he wasn't about to change it. He exchanged glances with Murphy and followed him reluctantly out of the building.

A couple of hours later Doyle poked his head into the secretaries office.

"Seen Bodie, Sal?"

"I think Cowley's sent him home." Sally replied, putting on her coat to leave for the evening.

"Cheers, Sal." Doyle was looking forward to going home himself. It had seemed to be a largely disappointing and unsettling day and he had to admit he'd been shaken up by the incident at Tiptree Street involving his partner.

Doyle and Murphy hurried into Cowley's office and imparted Willie's update on the cargo of guns and drugs expected to be illegally shipped into London docks. Cowley listened with interest scribbled down a few notes and then dismissed Murphy for the day.

"I know it's getting late, Doyle but I've arranged for you to attend a session with Dr. Ross in a few minutes."

"Me, Sir?" Doyle was confused. It was normal practice for any operative involved in a traumatic event sustained in the line of duty to meet with the resident psychologist for counselling but he hadn't been involved in anything of this nature. It was also carried out as a routine part of their physical and mental training.

"I had one a few months ago" he reminded his boss.

"Nevertheless I'd like you to go along now." said Cowley adamantly.

"Oh Sir, couldn't this wait? I'm really…." Doyle began wearily.

"No, Doyle it can't. Go. Now."

The agent stood his ground for a moment staring at his boss wondering whether it was worth the risk of challenging the man on this but decided it wasn't. 'What the hell is he sending me on this for?' he thought. Fighting to quell his irritation he stalked out of the room aware of Cowley's eyes boring into his back.

As he turned into the corridor at the top of the stairs Doyle was taken aback to see Bodie sitting in a seat outside the office of Dr. Ross. He was leaning forward staring vacantly at the floor but glanced up in Doyle's direction at the sound of approaching footsteps. He seemed just as surprised to see Doyle but looked away quickly again as his partner took the chair opposite him. Doyle had spent the last couple of hours wanting to see Bodie to talk to him, to apologise, to explain, to make things right, to put an end to this silly misunderstanding but now, when the opportunity finally presented itself he felt awkward and unsure of the reception he would get from the other man. There was an uncomfortable silence between them.

Without moving Doyle lifted his eyes to steel a furtive glance at Bodie and saw his own misery at their circumstances reflected in his demeanour. Bodie sat hunched over, dejected and, if he admitted it his arm hurt. He'd spent two days with someone who didn't seem to know the meaning of the word silence but now the soundless hush in the corridor that hung between him and his partner was something he couldn't bear any longer. He looked quickly at Doyle and, catching his eye,he let a small smile break on his face.

" I'm glad we're talking again."

Doyle chuckled, grateful that the tension appeared to be broken.

"Me too."

"So why are we here?" Bodie asked, encouraged.

"To save our marriage."

Bodie screwed his face up in a mixture of amusement and mild distaste. "Does it need saving?"

"Gossip in the restroom says it does. Word is I'm citing unreasonable behaviour in the divorce!"

They both shared a laugh at this.

"Feel like a walk?" Bodie suggested.

"What about….?" Doyle jerked his thumb in the direction of Dr. Ross's door.

"She's not there, I knocked earlier. I think we've been set up,mate, by Cowley."

"The crafty old sod!"

The two operatives rose as one and dispite the rapidly approaching darkness found themselves heading out into the gardens laid out at the back of the C.I.5 building. They took up a seat on the wooden benches that bordered the flower beds.

"How's the arm?"

"Not too bad. Hedley had to put three stitches in it."

"It scared the life out of me, Bodie, hearing about it."

"Didn't do me much good either! Even less for Weaver! But honestly Ray, that man can talk! He talks about computers all day. Reckons I'll soon be able to order sprouts on a hand held computer and they'll deliver them to my home."

"What?" Doyle couldn't understand the concept. "But you don't even like sprouts."

"I know! I tell you, the man's either a genius ahead of his time or he's a raving lunatic."

"Definitely the latter, mate."

The two men fell quiet each revelling in the return of the warm comfortable friendship missed more than each could tell the other.

"What do you know about Murphy?" Doyle asked softly, his mind going back to the conversation he'd had with his temporary partner.

"Murphy? Not much, ex- Army like me though I didn't know him then. Why?"

Doyle shrugged. "No reason."

"Fancy a pint tonight?"

"Sounds great. Are you sure you're up to it?"

"Since when have I ever refused a pint ….especially when you're buying! You're not seeing Christine tonight then?"

"Sore point." Doyle revealed. "She's dumped me, says I'm too volatile."

"Mmm, now I wonder where she got that idea from. Anyway, if you play your cards right you could try your luck with Janet. She was asking after you the other day. I'm still working on Kirsty."

"You must be losing your touch, mate. I saw both girls walking out with Weaver just as I came in."

"You're kidding?"exclaimed Bodie. "Weaver? He wouldn't know what to do with a girl! Come on, let's get out of here."

Doyle stood beside his partner. " Would you mind if I invited Murphy along tonight?"

"'Course not,mate, the more the merrier."

As the two men began to walk back into the building they were unaware that George Cowley, head of C.I.5, stood at the window watching the pair with a smug feeling of satisfaction for a job well done on his face.


End file.
